


The Last Thing I Need

by Lollopy



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 15:21:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20641346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lollopy/pseuds/Lollopy
Summary: “See, Callum don’t want you here. And I don’t want you here. In fact, I can’t think of anyone who would want you here. So you turn around, get back on that tube, and fuck off.”





	The Last Thing I Need

Callum’s in the middle of a good dream – _Of course I’ll help the Avengers, Captain America_ – in the middle of a well-deserved Saturday afternoon nap when there’s a _bang_ that’s a bit too much like a gunshot, and before he’s fully awake he’s already on his feet and half a dozen steps away from the sofa.

“Afternoon,” Ben says from where he’s standing by the window and Callum jumps again, letting the blanket Whitney left behind fall to the floor. He scrubs a hand through his hair.

“What are you doing here?”

It’s a bit of a stupid question, but then he has only just woken up. Ben’s spending more and more of his time in Callum’s flat nowadays and has a habit of appearing when Callum’s least expecting it; it would have been more of a shock if Ben hadn’t been there. He has his own key now, his own dresser drawer, his own shampoo in the bathroom, his own side of the bed. Even Lexi’s slowly moving in, making a space on the coat hooks specifically for her school bag, and her school bag _only_, thank you.

Ben tugs back the curtain a bit more to stare at something – someone – on the street outside.

“Nice to see you too,” he says without turning. “I saw your old man heading in this direction, thought I’d come over and warn you before he got here. He’s quick, you know, I only just got upstairs before he was banging on the door.” Callum blinks.

“My dad’s in Walford?”

There’s another thud, but this time Callum’s awake enough to recognise it as someone thumping on the street door downstairs.

“You said he’d turn up once he heard about the wedding.” He had. He’d mentioned it briefly when Ben was still in hospital, bored out of his mind and full of painkillers. Callum had spent two hours rambling about nothing because the alternative was listening to the _beep beep beep_ of machines. He hadn’t honestly thought Ben was taking any of it in. It had been a while since then, anyway, and he’d hoped he’d got away with his dad just being disappointed in him from afar.

“I don’t want to speak to him,” Callum says as the thudding gets louder and angrier, on the off-chance Ben was just waiting for his permission to let Jonno upstairs. Ben nods and turns the window handle, pushing it open.

“You want to have a word with him? Or I can, if you want?” he asks as he rests on hand on the window frame.

Callum hesitates for a second. He doesn’t want to hide behind Ben like some damsel in distress from one of Lexi’s story books, Lord knows it won’t make things any easier with his dad at the end of the day. But he knows his own strengths, and over the past few months he’s been slowly learning Ben’s. Callum might be better at defusing a bad situation that needs sorting with words, but that’s not what this is. No polite conversations and well worded arguments are going to get through to the man attempting to bash down the front door to a funeral home, and that’s where Ben excels. So Callum shakes his head slightly and steps back, watching as Ben sticks his head out of the window.

“Oi, pack it in!” he shouts down for the whole street to hear. “You’re gonna wake the dead with that racket.”

“Where’s my son?” The clear sound of his dad’s voice makes him flinch. He wants to grab Ben by the back of the neck and drag him away from the window so he’s safe, but Ben… almost looks like he’s having fun?

“Ah, well, Young Uncle Fester’s-“

“Not Stuart. Where the son you got your nasty little hands on?”

“Callum? He’s a bit… _tied up_ right now,” Ben says, dragging out the words, letting the _p_ in _up_ pop with implications that make Callum roll his eyes. “Do you want to leave a message?”

“You tell him to open this door right now!”

“See, Callum don’t want you here. And I don’t want you here. In fact, I can’t think of anyone who would want you here. So you turn around, get back on that tube, and fuck off.”

He slams the window shut, as dramatically as you can slam a PVC window shut, and puts his face to the glass. Jonno is still standing in the street shouting, but Ben’s running commentary drowns out his words.

“Fucking ridiculous, what did he think- What? I can’t hear you, mate, I’m deaf, you’re wasting your breath. He can’t have thought you’d just let him up. Oh my God will you go away? Yes. Go away.” He makes exaggerated shooing motions with his hands. “Away. Yes. Thank you. Finally.”

“Is he? Going?” He's tempted to look out of the window but doesn't think being spotted will do him any good.

“Out of sight, at least,” Ben says. “I’d put money on him just lurking around the corner for a while. Maybe stay in for dinner tonight.”

“Is that you offering to cook?” Ben snorts out a laugh. Callum feels the tension drain out of him at the sound and his shoulders slump down slightly.

“Of all the things I could be out doing on a Saturday night, you want me doing your dinner?”

“It’d be nice,” Callum says with a shrug. The next thing he knows, he’s being crowded back towards the kitchen.

“Weren’t you a chef in the army?” Ben’s frowning in mock-confusion at the ceiling, even as he walks them backwards. “Wasn’t cooking your actual job?”

“There’s repeats of Supermarket Sweep on as well, if that helps make up your mind.” Callum’s back hits the counter, and a hand snakes behind him to flick the switch on the kettle.

“You are so lucky,” Ben starts with a grin, and Callum feels his stomach flip for the thousandth time since he met this man. “_So_ lucky that I like you, you know that?”

Callum looks down at him. It's 'like' now, but maybe 'love' isn't too far off, then Ben will move in officially, permanently, if Callum has any say in it. There'll be weekends away and arguments in Ikea and eventually, maybe, a wedding that won't be a total disaster.

"Yeah," he says quietly, smiling back at him, "I am."

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% written just so Ben could say “You’re gonna wake the dead with that racket.” You can't live above a funeral home and not make jokes like that, I refuse to believe Ben would miss that opportunity.


End file.
